Possibly," he put down in an afterthought, "I might get a job in the city;"
and then, "with warm regards," he came to a close as "Art."
Cope finished his lunch and walked out. If Arthur could do one thing better
than another, it was to make coffee; his product was assuredly better than
the Greek's. The two had camped out more than once on the shores of Lake
Winnebago, and Arthur had deftly managed the commissariat. They had had
good times together and had needed no other company. How had it been on
Green Bay--at Eagle Cliff and Apron Bluff and all the other places lately
celebrated in lithographed "folders" and lately popularized by motorists?
And who was the particular "fellow" who ran the roadster?
Late that afternoon Cope chanced upon Randolph among the fantastic basins
and floral parterres of the court in front of the Botany building: Randolph
had had a small matter for one of the deans. Together they sauntered over
to the lake. From the edge of the bluff they walked out upon the concrete
terrace above the general boiler-room and its dynamos. Alongside this, the
vast tonnage of coal required for the coming winter was beginning to pile
up.
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